Is there anything better than a waterfront tangled with masts and flanked by tree-clad hills? Barely! On Week 2 of the Journey, I hit Fethiye, a relatively tiny town tucked into Turkey’s southwest Mediterranean coast. Let’s pause for a moment and reflect on Week 2 of said Journey. I was a bit of a mess. Oh, I was loving Turkey, alright, but really my head was swimming, nay, SCREAMING with reminders that, “This is not a vacation. This is your life. You’re not going to see your family or friends. For months. And months.” I was struggling to play it all backpacker cool, when really I was melting down. Oh yeah, that and I had thrown out my back carrying my backpack and lost one — yes, just ONE — shoe on a boat.
Thankfully, Fethiye gave me a dose of chill. Marina towns usually do, no? We spent most afternoons sitting on a dock, reading, overlooking such pretty hills and water speckled with small boats. We spent evenings on the balcony of our tiny pension room, drinking Buzbag, a startlingly decent red wine. When I wasn’t relaxing, I was eating, specifically, bowl after bowl of delicious, creamy, yogurty manti, pictured below. Oh lordy, if you haven’t tried this concoction (imagine tiny meat-filled tortellini drowned in a yogurt sauce, and topped with garlic, red pepper and ground sumac), get thee to a Turkish restaurant, STAT. Thank me later, no worries.
The world’s greatest gifts would combine for me in Fethiye: waterfronts, wine, comfort food and that ever-elusive gift, peace of mind.
